


Blindspot

by WinterJoy



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Gen, Headaches & Migraines, Hurt/Comfort, Meet-Cute, Olicity Summer Sizzle, Wrong number
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-09-26 20:55:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20396011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterJoy/pseuds/WinterJoy
Summary: Oliver and Felicity meet over spilled coffee one morning at QC. Later that day, Felicity gets a bad migraine and needs help, calling Oliver's number by accident.





	Blindspot

Felicity hummed the Doctor Who theme song under her breath as she wiped down the counters in the break room at Queen Consolidated.

She had come in to grab a mid-morning coffee (her third of the day), only to find spilled coffee all over the counters.

The mess maker, though nowhere to be found, had left enough hot coffee in the pot for Felicity to fill her computer code travel mug without waiting for more to brew, so she was okay with cleaning up the mess this time.

Besides, this wasn’t a recurring pattern; it was almost a mystery. IT grunts such as herself were generally adept at surviving on coffee, and as such were loathe to spill of drop of the magical liquid.

Just as Felicity finished rinsing out the cloth, she heard a voice in the doorway behind her.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I was coming back to clean that up; it just uh, took me a while to find paper towel.”

Felicity turned around, then did a double take when she saw who it was that was speaking.

_Oliver Queen._

The billionaire heir to this company, who was rescued from some deserted island only days ago. Apparently he came into the company today, and holy cow, for some reason he came down to the IT department break room?

“Hi, I’m Oliver Queen.”

“Of course,” Felicity responded, a little flustered, “you’re Mr. Queen.”

“Nooo,” Oliver returned, “Mr. Queen was my father.”

“Right, but, he’s dead. I mean he drowned,” Felicity babbled, then realized what she had said; “but you didn’t, which means you could come down to the IT department and listen to me babble. Which will end! In 3, 2, 1…”

Oliver looked amused.

“I was having some trouble with that coffee pot. I couldn’t find anything to clean up my mess with.”

“Second cupboard, third shelf, blue box. That’s where the cloths are.”

“No wonder I couldn’t find them. Thank you for taking care of that.”

“Well you also made enough coffee for me, so I didn’t mind,” Felicity answered, holding up her mug, “coffee is the secret to life and productivity… and on that note, I should get back to my desk.”

“I won’t keep you then,” Oliver replied, stepping out of her way.

Felicity left the break room and headed back to her cubicle, calling “thanks for the coffee!” over her shoulder.

She didn’t see it, but Oliver smiled.

««««««««««

Sitting at an empty table near the back of the QC cafeteria, Felicity stared blankly at the wall, wrapped up in the code that she was writing in her head.

She was so focused on what she was doing that she didn’t notice a certain blond haired, blue eyed man slide into the seat across from her.

“Hi.”

Felicity jumped with a yelp.

“Don’t scare people like that!”

“Sorry,” Oliver apologized, “I thought you would have seen me sit down.”

“Nope,” Felicity shot back, “I was coding.”

“Coding?”

“I, uh, do this thing where I kind of completely zone out when I’m mentally working on a string of computer code. I’m a nerd, I know. If you don’t like nerds, you shouldn’t hang out around IT workers, it’s pretty much required that we all be, you know, nerds.” Felicity rambled.

“It’s all right, I don’t mind,” Oliver assured her, “I never got your name this morning.”

“Oh!” Felicity startled; _Oliver Queen was asking her name? _“It’s Felicity. Felicity Smoak.”

“Nice to meet you, Felicity.” Oliver said, reaching across the table to shake her hand.

“You too,” Felicity answered, “don’t take this the wrong way, but why are you here?”

“At QC? My mother insisted that I tour the company today. She really wants me to take on a position here.”

“Not QC here,” Felicity corrected him, “of course you’re at QC. Why are you here-here? In the back of the cafeteria for the grunt workers with an IT girl many rungs below you on the social ladder?”

“Felicity, I don’t care about the social ladder—I just spent 5 years completely without it. I’m here, because you are the first person that I’ve seen since I’ve been back who hasn’t either asked me about the island or expected me to be who I was before the Gambit went down.”

“Not even your family?” Felicity asked, astonished.

“They’re actually the worst of everyone,” Oliver told her, “it’s just nice to meet someone who lets me be as I am.”

“Well of course!” Felicity assured him, “you couldn’t possibly be the same person that you were five years ago; and if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s your right. I would think that would be obvious.”

“Thank you, Felicity.”

“For what?”

“Accepting me. And for giving me back a little hope in humanity.”

They ended up talking for the rest of Felicity’s lunch break.

Eventually, Felicity remembered to check the time.

“Shoot!”

“What?”

“Sorry, it’s just that I have to run;” Felicity apologized, “I have a meeting to attend with my supervisor a few floors up in 30 minutes.”

“Oh, okay. My mother would probably be happy if I made my way back upstairs anyway. More bureaucrats to meet and all that.”

“Hey—” Felicity cut in, “remember; your life, your choice.”

“Thank you.” Oliver told her earnestly. “Before you run, would you, uh, mind swapping phone numbers?”

“Sure!” Felicity agreed. This had been her best lunch break since starting at QC, though she was still in shock that _Oliver Queen_ of all people wanted to talk to her!

Felicity handed Oliver her phone to type his info into, while quickly putting her name and number in his.

She looked up to see Oliver fumbling with her phone, looking mildly embarrassed.

“Here,” she explained, moving to stand beside him so that she could point to the screen, “just touch that… and hit this… there you go.”

“Thanks. This stuff is all kind of a lot different than I remember,” Oliver admitted sheepishly.

“Well luckily for you, I happen to be well versed in technology, and would be happy to catch you up—if you want to, of course.”

“Of course I would, Felicity.”

“Awesome! Great! I mean, yeah I can do that.”

“Well then, all the best in your meeting.”

“You too.”

««««««««««

Twenty minutes into the meeting, and Felicity was having trouble focusing.

She was trying to pay attention, of course, but it was so hard with the pressure that was building behind her left eye.

This conference room was on a much higher floor than she was used to, and the sun that was strongly shining through the wall of floor-to-ceiling windows had given her a headache.

Felicity shoved her hands under her legs and crossed her fingers, praying that this would stay a headache and not turn into one of her migraines.

Three minutes later, when she tried to look at the paperwork that was handed out to everyone at the meeting, she knew that it was hopeless; she had blindspots. She was looking at the paper, but some of the words just weren’t there.

Felicity lasted 10 more minutes before the raging pain and decreasing vision became too much to stand.

She slipped out of the conference room, barely making it into the deserted hallway before the first tear rolled down her face.

It hurt so_ bad_.

Desperately wanting a cold cloth for her face, Felicity tried to find a washroom.

Unfortunately, she was totally unfamiliar with this floor; she had even forgotten where the elevators were at this point.

She needed _help._ Even if there was no one to take her home, if she could just get down to her floor, she could suffer though it in the IT women’s restroom.

Felicity pulled out her phone to try and call Amanda or Steven, the people who worked in the cubicles on either side of hers. She didn’t really have anyone else to call in Starling City.

Unfortunately, her blindspots had gotten bigger—she couldn’t see most of her touchscreen.

Even though it had happened before, it was still scary every time.

Tapping blindly, Felicity hit the first number that appeared, holding the phone to her ear when it started ringing.

She almost sobbed in relief when she heard the line pick up.

“Hello? Felicity?” a masculine voice asked.

“Oliver?” Felicity faltered. “I’m so sorry. I meant to call Amanda. I know you’re busy; I’ll just let you go.”

“Felicity, wait!” Oliver called. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, sorry…”

“Felicity.” Oliver cut her off insistently. “I want to help. What’s wrong?”

A dam broke in Felicity.

“It hurts!” She cried into the phone, “It hurts so much, and I can barely see, and I have no idea where I am, and I _can’t do this_, _it hurts_!”

“Felicity, listen to me. I am going to help you,” Oliver promised. “I need you to tell me more. Are you bleeding? Are you trapped?”

“No, no, not like that,” Felicity sniffled, “I have a migraine. I get horrible ones; I have partial vision loss, so I can’t see enough to read or anything right now, and _oh man_ I just started shaking too. I’m sorry to ask, but it hurts too much for me to care anymore. Can you please come get me and take me down to the IT bathroom so I can suffer it out in peace?”

“Yes, Felicity, I’m coming, hang on,” Oliver soothed her. “I need you to help me figure out where you are. Did you go to your meeting?”

“Y-yes.”

“Have you gotten in an elevator or on stairs since then?”

“I don’t think so?”

“What do you see right now?”

“Uh, green tile floor? Grey walls, and a blue leather couch with a coffee table. No windows, thank goodness.”

“It sounds like you are somewhere between the 25th and 15th floors. I am going to come down and find you. Stay right where you are, alright?”

“Okay,” Felicity breathed, “please hurry.”

A few short minutes later, though it seemed like an eternity to Felicity, a slightly sweaty Oliver burst out of the stairwell door on the 19th floor, racing through the hallway and leaping over the coffee table just in time to catch Felicity as she fainted.

««««««««««

Felicity woke up, in pain and disoriented. Where was she?

She attempted to roll over, but quickly realized that she was lying with her head in someone’s lap.

_What—Who?_

A calloused, but gentle hand reached out and smoothed her hair back from her forehead.

“Hey, you’re awake. Are you alright?”

It was Oliver. Kind, famous, and apparently heroic Oliver.

“What happened?”

“You fainted,” Oliver informed her worriedly, “I barely made it in time to catch you. You were out for maybe a minute.”

“Thank you for saving me.” Felicity smiled weakly, though her whole body was beginning to shake.

“You were hurt. There was no choice to make.” Oliver confessed.

He placed a hand comfortingly on her arm, then frowned.

“You’re shaking.”

“I don’t need to be told that!”

“Do you need a hospital?”

“No, I need a trash can.”

“Are you—what?”

“I need you to find a trash can. Fast!”

Oliver eased Felicity’s head off his lap and onto the couch, then sprinted down the hallway.

He was back mere moments later, setting the trash can beside the sofa.

Felicity rolled off the couch and onto her knees, shaking much harder.

Oliver pulled her ponytail back from her face, and Felicity lost her lunch into the garbage. 

Oliver continued to hold her hair and murmur quiet assurances each time that Felicity’s stomach worked to reject all of its contents in protest to the pain that she was in.

Eventually, Felicity sat back on her heels, sagging into Oliver in her exhaustion.

“All done?” he inquired gently.

Felicity nodded; eyes shut.

“Alright then, let’s get you home.”

“Home? But—”

“No buts. You should get some sleep. There’s nothing that won’t wait till tomorrow.”

“It’s probably not safe for me to drive, and I really don’t want to take the bus.”

“I wouldn’t let you anyway,” Oliver informed her, “besides, what’s the point of me having a bodyguard if he can’t help me drive a sick friend home?”

“We’re friends?”

“Yes, Felicity, I think it’s safe to say that we’re friends by now.”

“Good. I like you.”

Oliver chuckled.

“As a friend! I like that we’re friends. You’re the nicest person I’ve met at QC.”

“In that case, everyone here are idiots for not getting to know you.”

“Yeah, ‘cuz who wouldn’t want to help someone puking their guts out.”

“You are so much more than this, Felicity. But speaking of that, let’s get you out of here. Can you walk?”

“I think so?”

Oliver helped Felicity to her feet, keeping his arm around her waist.

As he guided them towards the elevators, he pulled out his cell and dialed Diggle.

“Dig.”

“What the heck man, where’d you run off to so fast?”

“A friend of mine is sick. I need you to pull the car around to the back so we can take her home. We’ll meet you at the back doors in a couple minutes.”

Oliver hung up.

“You could have been a little nicer. What happened to goodbye?”

Oliver tucked Felicity a little tighter into his side.

“I’ll work on it.” He promised.

“Good.” She murmured, nuzzling her face into his side. “I need to grab my purse before we leave. I can’t go home without my EpiPen.”

“Would that have helped?” Oliver asked worriedly as he pushed the button for her floor.

“No silly, EpiPens are for allergies, not migraines. I’m allergic to peanuts, so I have to have it with me anywhere that I might eat or drink something.”

“Is there nothing to help a migraine? Advil, maybe?”

“Oliver, migraines laugh at Advil. There’s nothing to do but suffer through it.”

Oliver swallowed hard. She couldn’t realize how much he understood that feeling.

After grabbing her purse from her desk, the pair headed back down the elevator and out the back doors to where Diggle was waiting.

Oliver helped Felicity slide into the car and closed her door before hurrying around to climb in beside her.

“So, you’re his bodyguard? I mean, you sure look the part.”

“Yes ma’am. The name’s Diggle. Are you alright?”

“A little better now, thanks to Oliver. I should be mostly back to normal after a nap. Migraines suck.”

“Where to?”

Felicity gave Diggle her address and apartment number, then leaned into Oliver, using his arm to hide from the sunlight.

Within a couple of minutes, Felicity was asleep.

Oliver looked up to see that Dig had a tight look on his face as he drove.

“Speak freely Dig.”

“With all respect sir, what are you doing? You left a meeting with your mother, 3 department heads, and a board member to answer your phone. Then you take off running like your life depends on it so you can what? Act as a taxi service? Who is this girl to you?”

Oliver looked down at Felicity sleeping on him.

“I met Felicity this morning. She is the first person since I’ve been back who hasn’t expected me to be something that I’m not.”

Oliver looked up at Diggle and his face hardened.

“If I hadn’t taken off running; if I’d been 2 seconds slower, then she would have hit her head when she passed out.”

Dig glanced up in the mirror with a look of understanding.

“I apologize, man.”

They drove the rest of the way to the apartment in companionable silence.

When they arrived, Dig parked on the street and shut off the car.

Oliver hated to disturb Felicity, but he knew that she would be more comfortable in her bed than in the vehicle.

“Hey Felicity,” Oliver murmured, rubbing her arm a little, “we’re at your place. I just need you to tell me where your key is.”

“Huh?”

“Where are your keys? Are they in your purse?”

“Yeah.”

“Can I grab them?”

“Uh huh.”

Oliver gingerly reached into Felicity’s purse and extracted the Tardis keychain.

Getting out of the car and opening her door, he gathered an incredibly drowsy Felicity into his arms and carried her through her building and up to her floor.

Carefully unlocking the door, Oliver couldn’t help but glance around at her place, taking in how it reflected her personality.

Oliver felt a little uncomfortable invading her privacy, but she was practically sleeping in his arms; he couldn’t just leave her in the doorway.

The third door he tried revealed the bedroom.

Oliver laid Felicity down on the bed, taking off her shoes before carefully tucking the blankets under her chin.

He then laid her phone on the bedside table, before looking down at her.

Felicity hummed.

“Oliver? Are we home?”

Oliver wasn’t ready to admit how much he liked the sound of that.

“Yes, Felicity. You’re home. I’m going to go so you can get some sleep now. You call me if you need anything at all, okay?”

“Mkay.”

Oliver turned to leave.

“Oliver?” Felicity called out.

“Yes?”

“Thank you for taking care of me.”

Oliver smiled.

“There’s no place I’d rather be.”


End file.
